


Brahms is a goodboy (for once)

by MLMDarkFiction



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Reader-Insert, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 12:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLMDarkFiction/pseuds/MLMDarkFiction
Summary: "Brahms and S/o bulding a pillow fort?"





	Brahms is a goodboy (for once)

Originally Brahms is angry when he wakes up only to find it’s three hours past his usual waking time, it’s a serious diversion from the regular routine, and if it were any other nanny or caretaker such behavior would result in a serious punishment. But it’s not just any nanny, and so he finds himself moving to your bedroom, still dressed in his sleep clothes (aka only his boxers) to demand an explanation. 

 

He’s not even to the end of the hall when he hears it. Crying. Your crying. Fear runs through his veins like ice water as his brain over compensates thinking of all the things that could have possibly gone wrong while he slept. So he bursts open the door to your room only to find you curled into your bed, tears stained your face as you let everything out into the open pillow. 

  
“What’s wrong ____?”

 

You’d noticed his arrival as soon as he’d slammed the door open, there was no way you couldn’t have noticed it. It’s not his real voice that asks you, it’s the child's voice, but it quivers, the real concern underneath over powering. 

 

Despite how you’re feeling, you have to smile. 

 

Brahms could be such a good boy. 

  
“Come here my good boy.” 

  
It’s not an answer, but it’s good enough. Brahms doesn’t need to hear anything else, he’s joining you in the bed in an instant, cuddling into your chest. 

  
“Please don’t cry.  **Please** .”

  
“Shh.” 

The last thing you want is Brahms worrying for you, but it’s hard. It’s just one of those days, and no matter what you do you can’t force yourself to continue on. You know come tomorrow you’ll likely feel better, but until then, all you want to do is cry and cuddle with your good boy. 

 

You tells Brahms as much, hands gently running through his hair, trying to calm him as much as you’re calming yourself. It’s not planned, it just happens, all worn out from your crying you find yourself quickly falling asleep thanks to the added warmth and comfort of Brahms’ presence. 

 

-

 

It’s hours later when you wake, you know this as the light of day is no longer tearing through your bedroom curtains. There’s a dull throbbing in your head, and you attribute this to your tears from before. None of this surprises you. Your bad days often go like this, no the surprising part was the complete lack of Brahms. 

Although you hadn’t exactly expected him to stay in bed with you the whole time, it was unlike him to willingly end cuddles. 

 

So once your house shoes are in place to save you from the chill of the drafty apartment you go out in search for him. 

  
“Brahms? Brahmsy? Where are you, honey?”

 

There are no giggles in the walls, no signs of shifting from behind, or any other obvious sign that you’re being watched. You begin to fear that perhaps he’s dreadfully angry with you for not adhering to his schedule, and realistically, for once, he has every right to act like a brat with you for it. 

 

However your fears are quickly quenched when you hear a giggle from the direction of the parlor. Relief floods you instantly. 

 

“In here!” 

 

Brahms’ little boy voice greets from that direction, and you’re quick to follow it. 

  
“Brahms you scared me I thought-”

 

Your words die in your throat when you see what he’s prepared for you. 

 

It must have taken all of the pillows and blankets in the mansion (aside from the ones on your own bed) to have made this magnificent fort. In front of it all is Brahms, looking to his feet, hands nervously clasped behind him. 

 

“ **Well** ? Please don’t be angry with me...” 

 

Angry isn’t the words to describe it, no you’re far more amazed. Touched. 

 

“But I knew you weren’t feeling well and...this makes me feel better.”   
  
“Oh Brahms…” 

  
A hand clasped over your mouth as you quickly walk towards him pulling the man into a hug.

 

“It’s wonderful…Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Have a request? Mlmdarkfiction.tumblr.com/ask


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